Words Left Unspoken
by annastern2009
Summary: Not a broken plate and a pissed off brother. Not with a dad that stormed out of the room with a glare towards his youngest son. It wasn't supposed to be like this. - Set right after Sam graduates from high school


Hazel eyes met green ones across the room, and for the first time that Sam could remember, the room was awkward betwee him and Dean. It shouldn't be like this. Not now. They…

He wasn't sure what he even expected with this. Maybe a hug. A 'We'll keep in touch' or 'You'll do great'. Hell, he would have even settled for a simple pat on the back and things going back to normal. Not this. Not a broken plate and a pissed off brother. Not with a dad that stormed out of the room with a glare towards his youngest son. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

"Dean, would you just -"

"No, Sam! Don't tell me to chill out. I'm not the one running away from the family!"

Sam winced, a groan leaving his lips as he let his legs bend, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. How was he supposed to fix this if Dean wouldn't even listen to him? It was a hopeless, futile effort at this point. One that he couldn't just let drop. Gaze moving down to his hands, hanging between his knees, he tried again. "I'm not running away from the family -"

"Like hell you're not! Leaving us, going all the way to fucking california? You're leaving us, Sam!"

His hands raised then, running through his hair, pushing it back away from his face. "Would you just listen for once, Dean? Damn it! I'm trying to explain to you why - "

"Do you really hate our family that much?"

It was inevitable at this poing, he knew that Dean wouldn't let him explain. Neither his brother nor father would let him explain why he had chosen to accept the scholarship to go to Stanford. Accept and agree to go. It was something he wanted, that he had been striving towards his entire high school year. He knew how they all saw it. His dad has basically blown a casket when he mentioned that he had a ticket to leave to go to California in the next week, and would just hang around here until his time to take off arrived. Before John had blown out of the room, he had said that if Sam walked out that door, if he didn't go with them to the next hunt tomorrow night, then he could stay gone.

That he wasn't wanted anymore.

That he wasn't welcome back.

It wasn't what Sam had wanted when he brought it up. He wanted out, sure. The life of a hunter wasn't for him, he hated it; he despised it. He just wanted out of the life style, not out of the Winchester life. Being forced to chose between his family and the life he wanted - it wasn't fair.

He hadn't even noticed that Dean had moved closer, was glowering at him with his arms crossed against his chest. He wouldn't have noticed if Dean hadn't leaned forward and thwapped the side of his head. It caught him off guard, causing him to slant to the side, his head instantly snapping to the side to glare up at his brother. "What the hell, Dean!"

"I asked you a fucking question, Sam. You don't get to drop this bomb on us and then ignore me after it gets dropped."

The green eyes looking down at him were like fire, and it made his skin itch. He hated that Dean was this pissed at him, wouldn't let him explain. How was he supposed to do this? No matter how many ways he said he didn't hate the family, he just hated the life style, Dean would take it personally. He would flip the words until it sounded like Sam saying he just wanted away from his dad and from his brother and that he hated them all. That wasn't it. "I don't hate the family, Dean. I love you and Dad, you know that. I just… I don't want this LIFE. I don't want to spend forever hunting things that are going to try and _kill_ us. I want a normal life, Dean! I want to go to school, and get married. I want the little house with a white picket fence and kids! I don't want you guys out of my life, I just want out of dad's life style."

Dean scoffed above him, and Sam groaned again. He pushed his hands against the bed, using it as leverage to get up from the bed. "Dean, I mean it. I love you and Dad, I just do not want to be a hunter. I don't belong in this life." He watched quietly as Dean watched him now, before he shook his head and took a step back.

"Yeah. Whatever, Sammy. Just.. get your shit and go before dad comes back. If you don't, you won't get out of here before he drags you into the car and drives off."

The dejected note in Dean's voice was what finally broke Sam. His eyes lingered on his brother as Dean moved across the room and sunk down into the chair by the window. He knew he should move, that Dean had a point, but seeing his big brother like that…

It took him a few minutes to finally start moving. Random articles of clothing were thrown into his bag as he made sure he had everything. His books, phone, charger, clothing, everything he may need. It didn't take long, they didn't have money to buy everything they wanted; they barely had enough for just the essentials. The string that looped through the material on the top closed, Sam tying it off to make sure it stayed closed as he slipped it over his arms to rest between his shoulder blades. "Dean.."

What was there to say? He wouldn't listen. His eyes stayed on his brother's form as he stayed sitting down on the chair, his eyes locked to the window beside him. Dean wouldn't even turn and look at him. A quiet sigh left his lips as he moved to the door. One hand grabbed the knob, pulling it towards him gently. The gust of wind from warm spring weather hit him in the face, and it suddenly hit him that he was about to leave. To go do what he wanted. He was going to go to school, and actually be someone normal for the first time in his life. He had wanted this for years.

So why did everything feel so… so _wrong_ at the moment?

Dean never flinched. Never turned as Sam stared at him, waiting, hoping for one final word before he left. But as the sixth minute moved from around, clicking into place, he knew that it was time. He clenched his jaw and raised his head, trying to show nothing but confidence in this decision.

If Dean looked back before the door closed, that's what Sam wanted him to see.

Not how heartbroken he was that Dean couldn't even look at him right now.

The door clicked behind him, and he swallowed heavily. That was it. He was on his own, and next week, he would be on the bus to California. He let his legs move down the concrete as he went to get a hotel room for the week with the credit card that had been given to "Leon Hubbard".

If he had looked back through the window to the room he had just left, he would have seen Dean finally get up faceplant into the pillow that Sam had deemed his. Would have seen him curl up and wrap his arms around the pillow and get under the covers, letting it all envelope him.

If Sam had, maybe he would have stopped.


End file.
